


Unexpected Smile

by Toshi_Nama



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshi_Nama/pseuds/Toshi_Nama
Summary: Surprises aren't always bad, especially when they come with a lovely set of eyes and a strong set of arms. Alistair might not have found what he'd expected to thanks to his trip to Orzammar - but he found something even better.
Relationships: Alistair/Dagna
Comments: 11
Kudos: 11





	Unexpected Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JRMax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRMax/gifts).



He was just checking up on her. Alistair nodded to himself. That was it. They were in the area, and after all the problems Kinloch had, it was only right to make sure the lovely lady -  _ smith  _ he corrected himself, was settling in. The others stayed and talked with the Knight-Commander, brooded at the inn back on the shore of Lake Calenhad, or spoke to the quartermaster. He was left to fidget on his lonesome, looking at the door into the Circle proper.

Luckily (it was luckily, right?) one of the Templars recognized him. “Anything I can do for you, Warden?”

Ah, he was  _ not  _ one of those he’d grown up with. Good. “Oh, I was just...well, look, there was a dwarf. She wanted to work with the enchanters, and I was just…”

Just what? ‘Just wanting to see if she was as excited as she’d been in Orzammar’ sounded way too creepy, and ‘wanting someone to talk to who liked me’ was too needy. Luckily, he was saved from having to finish his sentence.

A sigh came from behind his helmet. “Oh.  _ Her.  _ Go on in, she’s probably in the training room. We had to forbid her from using the library for ‘practical’ research.”

That sounded foreboding. Then again, he was used to that same tone of voice used about  _ him,  _ so maybe not? In either case, he walked down the first floor (decidedly less coated in blood and yuck than the last time he was here) and tried not to breathe too much. Rotten former-people weren't really much better smelling than Darkspawn, and worse because they used to be...well, people.

There was a door cracked open a bit further down the hall, and he could recognize the quick, excited tone coming from inside. He moved closer as it burbled along. “So! It looks like seven parts lyrium dust to four parts mixed embrium, deep mushroom, and rashvine turns green before it explodes. That’s not...quite what I expected. I wonder if it needs a spell to stay stable through the first transition?”

A grin tugged at his face - something almost unrecognizable after so long being All Too Serious. From just outside, he made his own contribution. “Maybe it’s still useful?”

The various sounds in the room stopped. Blast, had he done something wrong again?

“I swear, everyone’s wearing protective gear, and I’m sure all the hair will grow back!”

Alistair peeked more carefully than he’d intended around the door frame. His care was greeted by something that was still smoking and shifting slightly in the curve of an inverted breastplate. Whatever it was must have blown up before he was let into the public-but-restricted parts of the tower. 

“Oh, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he reassured. Dagna grinned back at him, her hair still pulled off to either side and out of her way.

The rest of the room was occupied by two Tranquil, he’d never stopped thinking they were creepy, one older apprentice missing a swath of hair and one and a half eyebrows, and a very disgusted looking Dagna.

Any tension in her drained as she finished sorting him into place and categorized him as ‘not a Templar or stuffy Senior Enchanter,’ he was sure of it.

“Oh, good. And it’s good to see you, too! Unfortunately, though, this isn’t.” Dagna sighed, and all he wanted was to make her smile.  _ Maker,  _ what had gotten into him? He hadn’t thought he was  _ that  _ lonely! “This was supposed to turn into a protective enchantment, and I was  _ sure  _ I’d figured out all the parts.  _ Mystical Methods of Forging  _ and  _ Oprenia’s Theories on Enchantments  _ meant that if I used…”

The rest of the explanation went over his head, but that was fine. Dagna, unlike  _ other  _ people, didn’t mind. It seemed she just needed a verbal sounding board.

“Well, maybe it still could? I mean, the rest looks stable and kind of glowy now.”

She perked up. All the way up to his sternum, but that was still ‘up,’ right?

“Oooh! I hadn’t noticed - but you’re right! Look, Renee, can you stir that a little, and do you have the stamp ready, Quincy?”

Later - longer than he’d admit - Dagna looked over. “Thanks,” she said frankly.

There was something so relaxingly direct about her. No hidden meanings, no snide commentary - just enthusiasm and a desire to see  _ more  _ than what her parents thought her life could be. 

“I never would have gotten there without your help...wait!” Her eyes widened. “I never would have gotten  _ here  _ without your help! You’re one of the Wardens! Thank you so much!!”

Alistair held up his hands. “Easy,” he chuckled, “I was just a messenger - and it was a much nicer message than most of the ones I get to deal with, really.” She had a  _ really  _ nice smile, as quick and sudden as the rest of her. Plus, she’d remembered him.  _ Him,  _ the ‘oh, yeah, there was someone else with’ of the Wardens. Dagna liked him, and he smiled as he met her really pretty eyes. They were kind of green. He liked green.

No. No, those were  _ not  _ the sort of thoughts he was supposed to be having! Blight! Darkspawn bad, killing good! That’s what he was supposed to be focusing on, not wondering how to get her to smile again!

**

The dirt of the road was puffing into a cloud around the army. Choking, it had to be worse for the dwarves that came down from Orzammar; they had just begun to arrive at Redcliffe when they were told to leave in five hours. At least Eamon’s forces were rested.

How long had it been since he’d gotten back to Redcliffe to find out that everything had gone wrong here, too? A few months, Alistair supposed. Four or five months. Yeah, that was when he had to tell the  _ Hero  _ about his parentage before someone else did, right before Thomas ran out looking for help. He didn’t like thinking further back.

Call it five months since getting to Redcliffe and finding out what happened, fresh out of the yuck of the Circle. Then it was off to Denerim, then ‘oh, we’re not that far away’ swinging by Orzammar, before it  _ was  _ going to take too long, and they went to Haven. After the disaster of Haven, they were back in Redcliffe four months ago, when Eamon decided to put  _ him  _ up as a replacement for his half-brother. Ugh.

So, four and a half months since his introduction to Kinloch with abominations completely forgetting about tea. Alistair chewed his lip. Was it really only three and a half months ago they’d walked into Orzammar? Three and a half months, and he’d managed to bring word to Irving for Dagna when the  _ Hero  _ wanted to take a break for lyrium smuggling. Then they’d gone back to Orzammar and it was months later they’d swung by on their way to the forest.

They’d been lucky there, he pondered, and it was only about a month before they’d been  _ back  _ to Redcliffe to say they had all the treaties, and Eamon said they had to deal with Loghain first. Ok, he hadn’t minded that, especially when the road went past Kinloch. He’d gotten to show her the ironbark shield Valendrian had made, and she’d been fascinated…

Alistair shook himself. They’d left Redcliffe again, and were on the road with a lot more people. The dust had been choking him for two days. They were getting close enough to where the Blight had taken hold to taste it when the wind blew north; maybe that was why everyone was coughing. It reminded them of why…

Not that a Warden needed the reminder. He had one in his head, after all - and his dreams weren’t any better after Riordan’s talk of sacrifice. The senior Warden hadn’t even tried to sleep. Smart decision, that. Instead, he’d taken Redcliffe’s vanguard and a handful of Dalish archers and left while the  _ Hero  _ and him got the next set ready to go, and here they were. On the road. Teagan promised he’d have the rest of the army going in another day and a half.

Just in case.

Alistair looked north at the crossroads. Here, he could pretend he could see the tower of Kinloch. There was no reason to go north, and no time. This time of year, they were cutting across fields rather than following the road. He couldn’t check up and let her know what was happening. Instead, he brushed his hand against the hilt of his sword. Dagna’d tightened up the enchantments when they’d gone there last to collect the mages on their way into Redcliffe. 

What a difference a week made. Then the buzzing from somewhere past his ears got more insistent.

“Hm?”

“As I said, you seemed distracted. It is good to know it wasn’t just a seeming.” 

He shook his head at the elf. “It’s fine, Zev. I didn’t sleep well, and am...well. Distracted, I guess.”

Zevran nodded. “Of course. You have a woman, yes? Someone to think of.”

“No!” His ears were getting warmer. “I don’t have a woman, or someone, I was...I was…thinking of a friend,” he ended lamely. He knew it was lame, especially as Zev smirked and nodded. Dagna was a  _ friend.  _ Crap. He  _ was  _ letting himself get distracted. He turned and watched the soldiers in front of him. None of them had pretty green eyes, though. The closest were Riordan’s.

Now  _ that  _ was an unpleasant memory.  _ ‘A Grey Warden must sacrifice themselves to stop the Archdemon. I will take that sacrifice myself.’  _ Somehow, Duncan had never mentioned that part of being a Warden. Was  _ that  _ why he wanted to be at the front in Ostagar?

His stomach sank. What if Riordan wasn’t the one with the chance? What if it was  _ him?  _ How many Wardens were lost in the Fourth Blight?

Alistair shook his head. That wasn’t something to worry about until they reached Denerim. Even more,  _ Dagna  _ wasn’t someone to worry about at  _ all!  _ She was a friend. Just a friend. Just a wonderful, beautiful friend that he tried to see every time they went past Kinloch, and whose smiles could brighten him up even when it was like now and just a memory. Just friendship. That was all. It was perfectly normal to bring friends jade flower vases that matched their eyes.

Right.

**

The stumbling forces left broken Denerim, still reeling from victory. Alistair felt like a chip floating with the rest. Poetic, wasn’t it? His mouth tasted just as sour as his mood. He didn’t  _ mind  _ surviving, it wasn’t that. After all his worries, he hadn’t been the one who had to make the sacrifice. No, he was just the only Warden left. The  _ Hero... _ had been heroic.

Alistair winced. Riordan had said it, kind of. It  _ should  _ have been him, especially because he’d managed to somehow not get forced into being a King. He was more senior. Once Riordan fell…

But no. Instead of actually doing his duty, he was left to be thankful to the man who’d done it for him.  _ ‘You have something to live for. Rebuild the Order.’ _

He sniffled again. With the other grieving soldiers, there were lots of ‘colds’ going around. The Dalish had already melted off, so it was just the remnants of Redcliffe’s levies, the dwarves who’d stayed for the final banquet and recognition, and the four mages who survived.

He was stopped before the crossroads.

“Alistair.” Teagan’s voice was forced. “Do you want the same rooms?”

“I’m not  _ actually  _ coming back to Redcliffe,” Alistair said abruptly. He’d been going to, because that’s where everyone else was going, but his mouth decided to say something else.

Teagan blinked, then nodded. “Of course.”

Now that he’d said it, he knew what he wanted to do. It certainly wasn’t going back to Eamon’s estate. It’s not like he wanted to… “Well, it’s not like Isolde wants me there...or really, Eamon. Talk about awkward. So I’ll just...go with the mages, and I don’t know, maybe just keep going. We don’t really have enough Wardens, and we really need stuff before I head into Orlais to try find the Chapter there and ask for help, and that’s it. It’s my job now. I should figure out how to do it.”

He should also shut up. Teagan knew him well enough to know when he was fumbling and hiding things. At least, Teagan used to know him well enough.

“Of course, Alistair. I’ll pass on your regrets. I understand.”

Alistair looked away. His uncle’s somber tone - oh, Andraste’s toenails. His not-really-uncle thought it was because of  _ Connor.  _ He hadn’t even thought about that. Well, it would have been because of that if it weren’t for everything else.

Every _ one  _ else.  _ Someone  _ else. A very particular someone else. After what they’d seen, after losing his fellow Wardens because he hadn’t done what he knew he should have, he  _ needed  _ a very particular smile more than he’d admit out loud - especially to his uncle.

“Anyway, I’ll stay in touch.” He turned and hurried to catch up to the cart and mages before Teagan could say anything else.  _ I’ll make it up to him later. _

The small train of skirted folks stopped. “Warden? What do you need?”

“Do you have space for one more?”

**

The Templar at the door didn’t even ask him anything. That was embarrassing, but also kind of convenient. He hurried on through. He should take off his helmet. No, with the different things Dagna usually worked on, he should leave it on. Or should he? It’s not like it would do much anyway, and he was still in armor.

The deciding factor was that having his helmet off would give his hands something to do. That’s why he poked his bare head into one research room after another. They were all empty.

They shouldn’t be empty, should they?

Alistair bit his lip as he walked past the apprentice dormitories and toward the library. There was a muffled giggle from one, but he ignored it. Whatever they were getting up to, it wasn’t for him to worry about. Nope. He’d done his part.

“Yes, exactly, Quincy! If we follow Enchanter Robert’s theorem - excuse me, Senior Enchanter Robert’s, then that necessitates using the star charts from, oh, where was the book? Thank you. These star charts here, from...Sister Peregrine? Pretty name, but you see how it should fit - what? What is it?”

It was Quincy, wearing the robes of a Harrowed mage, who’d almost dropped the book he’d flipped open for her.

“Excuse me, I’m right...oh,  _ nugshit.  _ Is it Sweeny?”

Dagna turned around, and her wariness vanished as he spotted him. “Hey, I lived.”

_ Great. Just great.  _ Now she’d know just how stupid he was.

She squeaked, just like the nugs she’d mentioned - he’d heard it often enough thanks to Leliana - and rushed him. Alistair braced himself, but it wasn’t a punch or a glare that met him. Her arms went around his waist hard enough for his armor to dent, he was sure of it.

“Alistair! Thank the Ancestors, now let me look at you and make sure you’re alright! And the sword, but you first, and then you can tell me everything.”

Now it was  _ his  _ turn to smile as he went on one knee to hug her back. Not that the smile lasted long - not when her smile turned into a kiss.

Now,  _ that  _ was unexpected.

Not that he was going to complain. Oh, no. Maybe he  _ did  _ have something to live for beyond just being a Warden.

**Author's Note:**

> JR, you've been such a lovely person and friend, all I can say is that I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this treat for you! I hope you enjoy it, and you deserve all the fluff!


End file.
